


"O"

by Lucterna



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 04:26:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucterna/pseuds/Lucterna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean fucks a girl he’s fucked before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"O"

She's sitting in the hotel room when he pushes inside it just before morning. For a moment, he thinks he's got the wrong one, steps back out and looks at the door just in case, but no, it's right. He frowns at her, glances around and tries to discern where his brother is.

She grins at him, "Got him his own room. Boy's sleepin' like a baby already."

As she speaks, she picks herself up off the chair she'd stolen. She always reminds him of a squashed up Jessica Rabbit, short and kinda chubby but still shaped like an hourglass. Her too tight t-shirt's trying to sell him Magic Hat beer and she's not wearing pants. An interesting prickle of heat at the base of his spine tells him that he was wrong to think he was too exhausted to enjoy the sight she makes.

Rubbing at his face, he demands, "What are you doing here?"

"Why you always gotta ask? You know what I'm doin' here." Her hands make little white fists that perch on her hips and his eyes are drawn that way, to the little flash of neon green panties farther down. He shakes his head, but this time, he finally shuts the door behind him.

She stands there and watches while he shrugs out of his coat, deposits the heavy material on the table and tugs off the unbuttoned shirt beneath it. He might not be sculpted, but there is something about his body, the way he moves, that tugs on things lower in her body, heats her up as fast as a touch. Kicking off his shoes, he actually stops long enough to pull off his socks and shove them inside, and then he's stalking towards her. In comparison, he's a big man, dwarfing her by nearly a foot, and he's solid, thick all the way around so that he still makes her feel almost petite.

She bites her lips together in anticipation until he forces his against them, his hands cupping her face and his fingertips digging into her jaws. Once upon a time, they used to take it slow, but she's less concerned with foreplay than he is - something he's never seen in a woman for sure. Nights like this, it's a blessing. He kisses her hard, mouths mashing together, his hands dragging their way down her body until he can get one of them inside those tacky colored underwear and he shoves two fingers up inside of her. Her head tips back, a little cry escaping her, and he pulls the digits from her body just as quickly.

Of course, she gets the idea, those hands making for his jeans, undoing the fastenings and shoving them down his hips until he springs free of them, bare and ready. She'd make a joke about not doing enough laundry, but he interrupts her to yank off her Magic Hat t-shirt and get a handful of boob. Once more the breath 'erk's out of her. She's not entirely sure when they stumbled this way, but when she sucks in some air, she realizes he's sitting down on the end of the bed, jeans still around his thighs, and the t-shirt on. She doesn't really care, she just tugs down her panties and crawls into his lap.

When their bodies brush, even he gives a needy little moan, and all it takes is a little situating before he's pushing his cock up inside her. The last time he fucked her, he'd joked that it was like fucking a plush toy, all that soft flesh around a hot, tight little hole that he filled to brimming. She'd just giggled and then bit down into his shoulder until he was vaguely sure that blood had been drawn, but it had been the icing on the cake and he'd come violently jerking up against her. She liked to be on top.

The sounds that he pounds up out of her are delicious, falling against his ears like honey and he's thankful they drown out his own. He doesn't even have to hold onto her, leaning back on his hands while she rides like some kind of prize racing horse. While her breasts bounce about for his entertainment, he nips them, stops one with a hand to twist the nipple until she's forced to stop for a second, whimpering, "Fuck, Dean, fuck." When she goes still like that, he can feel her body trembling, feel the slick tunnel squeezing his dick like it'll milk the climax out of him. He loves that and when she tries to move again, he straightens up and holds her still, fingers digging into her hips until he can feel the flesh dimpling under his short, short nails.

She remembers this when a few seconds have gone by, and she clenches those muscles inside her, winces as he seems to fill her even fuller. He's playing with her tits though, mouthing one of the nipples and kneading the other breast to bruising. A moment later, he rocks his body up against hers, pushing through the tight ring she'd made around his cock; it forces the breath out of her and he takes that moment to tangle a hand in her hair and yank her mouth to his, his teeth finding her bottom lip and tugging. She feels like her body's turning to putty; hot, wriggly putty, but with this intermission over, she can start fucking him again. Shifting enough to get her leverage back, she slides forward on him again and picks up the reeling pace she'd set before. He lets go of her mouth to abuse her neck and collarbones and she knows she'll be feeling those in the morning.

As he gives in to laying back, the breath leaving him in little bursts, she's ready to celebrate her triumph, her body shaky and just shy of tilting her into oblivion, but when she drapes herself over him, he grasps her by the sides and rolls her onto her back. Now clutching at her hips, he drives his body into hers, until she grabs one of the hotel bed's pillows and suffocates her own strained keening with it. Seconds later, she comes screaming into the pillow, her hands fisted so hard in it that her knuckles are white. He rides it out as long as possible, but it's too much, her pussy choking the length of him until he's spurting and spasming inside her.

Well and truly spent, he steals her pillow, throwing it aside to oblivion and covering her quivering, panting mouth with sloppy kisses. She breathes a breath that might have been a laugh if she had wits about her and shoves at him as he carefully pulls his softened girth out of her. Plopping onto the bed beside her, he waves a wobbly arm at her and says, "C'mon, get your snuggle on."

Sleep claims him just as her warm and pliant body cuddles up to his. Vaguely, he can feel unsteady fingers moving through his hair, a kiss on his forehead, and then sweet, merciful oblivion.

She's better than booze. In the morning, he won't have a hangover, but she'll be gone.


End file.
